


The Problem With Expression

by gatalea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 18:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11258598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatalea/pseuds/gatalea
Summary: "Keith loved Lance, he really did, but there were things that occasionally annoyed the shit out of him."In which Lance has trouble with PDA and Keith can only take so much.





	The Problem With Expression

**Author's Note:**

> so this was a prompt i had my friend come up with and then i later had her beta this. so k, thanks. enjoy.

I.  
Keith loved Lance, he really did, but there were things that occasionally annoyed the shit out of him. 

Like their current situation in the grocery store. Keith was looking over the different types of bread (he preferred white, but Lance was a sucker for whole wheat) while Lance puttered around nearby, humming softly under his breath. They weren’t glued to each other’s sides, but they were stood close enough together that one could probably guess they were dating. That’s just how couples stand, though--and that’s what they were: a couple. Keith noticed that as another shopper came around the bend Lance had cleared his throat and taken a decent-sized step back from him. 

It didn’t hurt, not like it used to, but Keith felt a rush of irritation. The lady hadn’t even looked at them, and even if she did, Keith wondered if she could even guess. Judging by how close that shopping list was to her face, he assumed not. Shooting Lance a look, Keith grabbed a random loaf of bread and tossed it in the cart before making his way out of the aisle. Lance could take the cart if he wanted to act like that, he decided. It was petty, Keith knew, but there was only so much he could take in a given day. The guilt about being so douchey towards Lance would come later, probably before he fell asleep, because then he’d come to his senses and remember why it happens in the first place. 

The rest of the shopping trip went by quickly and the two of them soon made their way out of the store, Keith thinking about the earlier years of their relationship while Lance gushed about some video he’d seen online the day before. 

In the past, Keith always felt it was his fault. Lance couldn’t be seen in public with him, obviously. Keith couldn’t really blame him though, I mean, does anyone really want to be associated with a greasy emo kid? They’d go out to eat or to the library and Lance would always keep his distance, though in private he’d nearly always have at least one point of contact. Now, Keith knew better. It wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t exactly Lance’s fault, but it was bothersome. The habit was frustrating and still confused Keith to this day, Lance’s knack for going from hot to cold regarding PDA, and Keith figured he had a right to be upset by it from time to time. 

Keith stared at Lance from the passenger seat. The light shifted and shadows moved off his face, so Keith watched. Over the curve of his jaw and the sharp tip of nose, to blue eyes that gleamed in the light, he watched. One hand flailed wildly, the other on the steering wheel, and his mouth moved rapidly. 

“You did it again, you know.”

Keith spoke without thinking and Lance was all at once silent. The motioning hand slid back into place on the steering wheel. 

“I’m sorry.”

Keith nodded absently and looked out the window, his own hands in his lap. 

He’d heard that phrase so many times. Apologies in private, followed by a soft kiss or two, and occasionally a talk. Once in a fight. But Lance was always sincere. 

“She caught me off guard and I… I just panicked, I guess.”

“I don’t think she’d even have noticed, that list of hers was practically in her eye socket. How can anyone even try to read with something that close to their face? At that point, isn’t it just individual letters?”

He’d changed the atmosphere to something murky and this was a weak attempt at lightening it. Lance--bless his heart--let out a snort. Keith looked over and gave him a small smile. Maybe an awkward talk could be avoided. So, instead of opening his mouth, he laid his hand palm up over the center console and watched Lance intertwine their hands without even a glance or second thought. The car, Keith thought, was a middle ground. Anyone could look in through the windows and see them like this, but this moment--what happened within the car--was private. Lance wasn’t afraid in the car because words couldn’t puncture glass and metal.

 

II. 

There were times, much better times, when Lance was comfortable. Around friends or even in public when they were in a group, he would hold Keith’s hand or throw an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders. Maybe there’d even be a peck on Keith’s cheek every now and then if Lance was feeling bold. It was always little things, but Keith was most happy at those times. 

There were jokes though.

Keith typically tried not to judge Lance’s coping mechanisms. It was nothing Lance could control or be faulted for, really. God knows Keith had weird shit he did when something bothered him. Lance was different though, and Keith swore that if they didn’t sleep in the same bed nearly every night, he’d think Lance was straight. 

There’d been a few instances in which the duo would go out for drinks with people outside of their immediate friend group, which wasn’t exactly strange. Coworkers could hang out with one another. What was strange, however, was the way Lance use to laugh along, or nearly agree, with an occasional homophobic comment or joke. Not ferocious stuff, just small things that would make Keith’s mouth sour and his temper flare. Ten, nine, eight, seven--Keith could remember the taste of blood in his mouth when the countdown didn’t work to control his anger.

Lance had progressed over the years and would give a small nod instead while Keith bit his tongue for Lance’s sake. He tried to avoid a fight and it usually worked out.

Until tonight. 

“Keith, those guys were huge! They could’ve snapped you in half!” 

Lance was gesturing wildly again, eyes big and bright. Keith held a tissue to his nose. 

“I think I handled it well.” 

Which was true, because the two guys had only managed a couple of punches and a kick to Keith, who knew at least one of them had a broken nose and/or black eye. He probably could’ve sent one of them to the hospital if the bar’s security hadn’t stepped in. Though he probably would’ve journeyed there with them at that point. Keith frowned.

“What was there to handle? They just made a stupid joke, you didn’t have to attack them! They don’t even matter!” 

The kettle inside Keith was beginning to whistle.

“So you’re defending them now?” His voice was loud and the tissue needed to be replaced. 

Lance glared, crossing his arms. “Of course I’m not defending them, but I don’t see why they were worth getting tossed out.”

Keith wasn’t flamboyant. He wasn’t constantly talking about much he liked it up the ass, or going out of his way to make everyone uncomfortable with how gay he was. But he was not in the closet, he refused to hide who he was. Confrontation was not something Keith feared. Of course he was going to defend himself and Lance when that beefcake at the bar started spouting homophobic bullshit. 

“Worth it? You’re questioning worth now?” Keith heaved. “Of course they were worth it! I’m gay, Lance. Did you forget that? Maybe I should reintroduce myself. Hello, I’m Keith Kogane, I’m really fucking gay and sometimes it really fucking offends me when I hear people talking about how disgusting my ‘way of life’ is!” 

“That shit affects me too -”

Keith snorted, shaking his head. “Sure doesn’t seem like it.”

“--it hurts me too, Keith! But I’m not going to start a fucking bar brawl over a couple of drunken idiots. I have friends who support me, I have you--I don’t need validation from everyone in the world!” Lance snarled, dropping his fists to his sides. 

“Then why do you hide? Past tonight, past me getting my ass kicked.” Keith sucked in a breath, his head spinning. “You have to get yourself so far away from me, even in the goddamn grocery store because god forbid someone actually thinks we’re a couple!”

Lance rolled his eyes, leaning back. “The grocery store thing? Still?”

“Yes, the fucking grocery store thing! What is so bad about being seen in public as my boyfriend? And it’s different than when we’re on a group outing. We can’t do anything together without you shoving a ‘no homo’ flag high above your head so everyone can see how not into me you are!”

“I’ve already told you why I have issues--” Lance started, but Keith slammed his fist down. 

“I have issues too, Lance! I get angry over anything and everything, I’m scared of horses after I nearly got trampled, I have trouble remembering my childhood--you are not the only person with issues! The problem with your’s is that it affects me too, you absolute asshole.”

“I’m trying, Keith,” Lance said through gritted teeth. 

“And I’m trying to help you, Lance,” Keith responded, his voice suddenly tired and his eyes on the floor. “I want you to be comfortable in your own skin, to be comfortable with me. Don’t you see that?” 

Dark eyes watched Lance turn and walk down the hall to their bedroom, the door slamming behind him. 

Keith got up with a sigh, tossing the bloodied tissue in the trash bin before making his way out to the apartment’s balcony. He sat in a folding chair, watching the sky and turning a ripped playing card over in his hands. It was dark and the streets were quiet, so it must’ve been late. Keith hoped offhandedly that none of their neighbors would complain about the noise to the landlord because they didn’t need another citation. 

III.

It was late again, it had to be if Keith was so tired. Then again, it could be the alcohol. 

He was lounging on the couch, staring the the ceiling while running a hand through his hair. It felt especially soft tonight and even though touching it so much would make it greasy, it felt nice. Lance was cleaning up the living room, picking up empty or half--empty glasses and plates, humming quietly. 

The day had been good. Their friends had come over and just being around other people, conversation flowing freely, felt really nice. The wine that Allura had brought with her felt really nice too. 

“Lance, I think we should get a cat.” 

A chuckle and then there was Lance, peering down at Keith with an amused smile. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because I want one.” 

“Great reasoning,” Lance laughed and went back to cleaning, bringing the dishes into the kitchen. 

Keith watched him, mouth turning down. He thought about a cat (maybe an orange one would be pretty) and sat upright, glancing back towards the kitchen. Lance was washing the dishes, still humming, and Keith suddenly felt very domestic. His mind flashed back to their argument and he realized it’d been a few days. He had never apologized. 

Standing, Keith made his way towards Lance, who had his back turned. Keith bent to press his face into Lance’s back as he wrapped his arm around his boyfriend’s waist. A muffled sorry followed not long after and Lance paused, turning his head in question. 

“I said I’m sorry.” 

“Wait, for what? Wanting a cat? We can get a cat, if you want. I was thinking maybe Cosmos as a name because we’re both into space and I don’t trust what kind of weird alien names you’d give it -”

Keith let out a breathy laugh. “I meant about the other day, for getting mad and yelling at you.”

Lance quieted and went back to scrubbing the dishes. Keith peeked over his shoulder, nose pressed into it, and was entranced by the swirling bubbles in the sink. 

“I’m sorry too.”

Keith blinked and pursed his lips, stepping back to perch himself on the counter next to the sink, swinging his feet carefully out of Lance’s way. 

“You made a good point though, about not being the only one with issues. I just get so caught up--” Lance stopped himself, biting his cheek and seeming suddenly frustrated. 

Keith nudged him with a small smile and Lance responded with one of his own before turning back to his work. 

“It’s just scary, y’know. I hear all this stuff about being heckled and attacked, and I don’t want that to happen to us. It’s still hard to come to terms with too, after keeping all that stuff in for so long, but I think I’m doing better than I was.”

“The lack of ‘no homo’ after we kiss could be considered an improvement,” Keith commented. 

Lance flicked water at him and Keith laughed. 

“That was once! You know what I mean though.”

Keith nodded, remembering the taste of dirt and the feeling of trying to scratch graffiti off of a locker. He knew firsthand how scary it was, but that never stopped him. It actually encouraged him to stand up for himself even more. No one would get the best of him. 

Lance was drying his hands when he turned to Keith, then reached out one that Keith met with his own. Water gurgled down the drain and one of Keith’s ears rang. Lance shot him a crooked grin and Keith feinted a kick at him. Laughing, Lance separated them and tossed Keith a dishtowel. 

The domesticity of it all made Keith warm. He definitely wasn’t a planner for the future--hell he didn’t even like to plan for the next week--but this was something he could see himself doing for a while longer. That counted for something, right? As Keith sat there, drying dishes and smacking Lance with the towel every so often, he knew it did. There were conflicts, there always would be, but they were working through them. Maybe one day Lance would be more comfortable with the whole PDA thing, maybe that’d take a while. Keith could wait, he would wait, because it was Lance, and Keith knew he’d wait forever for this stupid kid.


End file.
